Potential?

When I started writing in this journal, I had hopes of actually churning out something occasionally worthwhile. So while that hasn't happened yet, I'm still hoping that I will one day prove my potential isn't going to waste. Because I'm lazy and because I keep my own counsel, I don't write much of importance here and even those things that I would write fail to appear in cyberspace simply because when I get around to it I don't feel like explaining it anymore.

I dreamt of trains the other night. They were old trains and they made a horrible amount of noise. There was also a busy downtown with older buildings than any around here and many, many cars. It was summer. I don't dream of winter very often, I think, especially when there's no snow on the ground in spite of the cold.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

I now have a Christmas tree! I haven't decorated it yet, but it's standing proud beside my television and the aroma is spreading delightfully through my apartment. Unfortunately, this also means I have to vacuum the sawdust and needles.

(no subject)

My tree is up and trimmed and I am typing by Christmas-tree light.

Doing it alone wasn't as sad as I thought it might be, but that may be because I'm going to my parents' house tomorrow to help them with theirs.

Hanging up my ornaments, I wondered what it means to me, this whole festive season. It's not anything religious, though I've always known the why behind the holiday. The giving and receiving (ever noticed how we always put the giving first, as though we're trying to downplay the second part?) is a part of it, but the older I get, the more I think it's actually the tree.

I can't imagine Christmas without some kind of tree. If there were no other alternative, I'd settle for an artificial one, but nothing compares to the scent of fresh fir when you walk in the door. We single out one (or more!) specific tree to take home and decorate, a tree you'd overlook if it were just standing in the forest.